


Play Your Part in the Picaresque

by secretagentsmutgirl



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cold War, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretagentsmutgirl/pseuds/secretagentsmutgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1941 and Steve Rogers is sick of being the USO's dancing monkey. A training detail crosses his path with a beautiful Russian defector, and wraps him up in Cold War machinations out of his control. </p>
<p>AU-Cold-War Fusion to The Decemberist's "The Bagmans Gambit".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a series of drabbles after a 2012 Yuletide prompt for the song "The Bagmans Gambit" caught my interest. Together they form a narrative in ten parts.

**_On the steps of the capitol  
You shot a plainclothes cop on the ten o'clock_ **

1941 was shaping up to be a hell of a year.

Two months since the serum and he was relegated to desk duty and being the most recent poster boy for the war effort. The dancing monkey show was starting to get old. Truth be told he was starting to feel trapped by how strong his body was, how capable. It was intimidating to be intimidating. He’d give his bottom dollar for someone to just see him as plain Steve, the sickly urchin from BrooklynHeights.

Instead he was a paragon of the American Dream. He’d spent the better part of the morning in basic training with the newest S.H.E.I.L.D. recruits out in Arlington. They had not been able to keep up his grueling pace, so he’d shook them before crossing the river into the heart of D.C. For a moment, despite the physical exertion, he could breathe again and just be another guy out for a run by the river.

He should have known that he was tempting the fates.

The screaming alerted him, causing him to slow from his runners pace up Constitution Avenue to come to a halt at the grassy knoll at the foot of the Washington Memorial. On the grass a slight woman stood over a prone figure, just at the edge of the trees that blocked the view to the river. There was sulfur in the air and coming on dusk. Having a day off had been too good to be true, a day to suspend his mind and forget about aiding the FBI, a day without picking up the shield.

 Even from his vantage point he could see the figure on the ground was not moving and the woman was in distress. Steve Rogers knew his personal weaknesses, and a woman in distress certainly fit the bill. Approaching the scene he noted that there were no other pedestrians in sight, the tourist hour had long since given way to the straggling Capitol Hill gang who would soon roam the streets.

The man on the ground looked like a vagrant, with wild hair and wearing a filthy coverall. He was alive, with no visible wounds but there was a good amount of bloodstains on him and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in a week. No identification other than military issue dog-tags , Canadian if he was not mistaken.

“That man attacked, he attacked me. The gun is his, I don’t know how it was fired.  Help me, please.” Standing from his crouched position next to the woman’s attacker, he took in her shell shocked expression and the tears in her eyes.  When he was close enough to reach out and grab the woman’s elbow she surprised him, throwing herself into his arms with a sob. “Help me.”

On the ground the man began breathing heavily but remained unconscious. In his arms the woman was beautiful and trembling, features too delicate as though the chill October air had frozen them to ice. Scarlet hair tied back primly in a thick bun at her nape and luminous gunmetal eyes, Steve was sure that this stranger would haunt him even without the traumatic and rather strange experience of their meeting.

“Ma’am,” he started, his words causing her to tense in his arms and train those doe like eyes on him as though just realizing he was there. “Someone needs to alert the authorities and maybe get you to a hospital.”

At that she withdrew sharply, replacing his arms with her own in a graceful measure of defeat. “No. No police, _please_.”

Her accent was thick, something European and too husky and rich for such a slight girl. She continued slowly, as though it pained her, “My visa. I don’t have my papers and if I get sent home the Company will have me blacklisted. I would never dance again. Please, I will be fine.”

She was breaking his heart, and he had to admit that there was a reason that Bucky was always calling him a sap. “It’s alright. How about we get a cup of coffee and I’ll phone in an anonymous tip so the police can pick up the garbage? Get you off the street.”

The woman bowed her head, and clenched her shaking hands into the material of her dark skirt. “You are very kind.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile. “My name’s Steve, Steve Rogers. It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” He extended his hand, which she took with the slightest of pressure. Her fingers were delicate to the touch, birdlike with soft skin. “What do you say?”

“Yes.” Her smile was tremulous and tear stained, but she didn’t release his hand. “You are my hero.”

That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Erskine had made a hero out of a skinny kid with a hero complex. It was his role to play, and he supposed if that meant socking one to Hitler’s war effort or saving pretty girls it had been worth it.

That’s how he found himself first sharing a booth at the crappiest diner in the Mid-Atlantic States and later a bed with Natalia Romanova, former prima ballerina of the Bolshoi Ballet and recent defector to the United States.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile the war machine rolls on, with Washington and S.H.I.E.L.D. pulling the strings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we are given the plot and the cast of characters fills out. I'm having a lot of fun slotting in characters and historical details. I apologize for any mistakes and plead creative license and the fact that it's an AU!

_**And I saw momentarily** _   
_**They flashed a photograph, it couldn't be you**_   


S.H.I.E.L.D offices were quiet for a Monday. While international espionage rolled on, there were two dozen meetings convening off site which left only one high level meeting on the top floor of the unassuming building within sight of the Pentagon. The meeting was headed by the Director himself and the attendees numbered only two. Sensitive information had gone missing and his watch, and he wanted to know why.

Director Fury was in a bad mood, which was like saying that ice was cold or women were fickle, so for it to be notable it was a hell of a bad mood. Sitting behind the newest piece of Stark technology, a small lamp like machine that projected photographs via acrylic slides onto a screen, he motioned at the evidence of espionage on the warfront: another piece of prototype Stark technology somehow in the hands of the Soviets.

The light projection cast garish shadows on the wall, turning the Directors frown into something more sinister. “How the hell do you let something like this happen?”

The two other occupants of the room shifted in their seats.

Agent Sitwell smirked from behind the projector. “Well, I’m not sure what intelligence says but it’s more likely that Stark got in the wrong bed after a long night of wine, women and song.”

Howard Stark smiled lazily. “I’m a reformed man on that count. Fatherhood does that to a man.”

“That would be more convincing if I didn’t know for a fact your buxom blonde assistant in R&D is no more a scientist that I am a god damned showgirl,” Fury bit out, making Stark’s bland smile turn into a smirk. The man was a loose cannon and a liability, luckily for the war effort he was a certifiable genius with a fortune that had been accumulated by a century of his family helping make the United States the greatest nation in the world.

Fury crossed his arms over his chest and glowered one-eyed at the assembled. “Any other bad news to report?”

“We’re missing an asset.”

Sitwell changed the projected image to a military headshot of a scowling man with overgrown sideburns and bushy hair. “Codename: Wolverine. He’s on loan from the Canucks, following up on a similar theft from a top secret facility in the Northwest Territories. Oversight says he’s a lone-wolf and he went off the grid last week to follow up on some leads. He failed to check in with his army liaison this morning.”

“Any idea who he was meant to be tailing?” Stark inquired lazily, flipping a pencil around in one hand. “It might well help my internal inquiry into the missing tech if I knew the similarities in the cases.”

Another image flashed onto the screen showing a wide shot of a slender woman in a skin tight RAF jumpsuit, her face turned away from the camera. “The same suspect from the breach of security at the Muir Island facility in Scotland. The Brits were only able to get this one photograph by confiscating the cameras of everyone on the island. ”

Stark wolf-whistled sharply. “I think I’d remember that dame, especially with that body.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sitwell agreed. “You would have promoted her to the R&D department.”

“If you did, that would explain the security breach. She’s a Soviet deep cover agent they call the Black Widow.” Fury motioned for the next slide to reveal a list of two dozen names. “She’s collected an impressive kill list these last few years and rumor has it has buried two husbands.”

Sitwell cleared his throat. “Sir, if she’s responsible for the Royal Hope Hospital fire this list should be much larger. One hundred and eighty people died in that fire.”

“There was only one target. Alexei Shostakov.”

That got Stark’s attention back from wherever it had wandered. The dark haired playboy looked uncomfortable when he asked, “The aerospace engineer? He was doing groundbreaking work, thought he could sent a Russian into space in the next ten years.”

Fury nodded. “Yes, and he was Russian’s top pilot. Unfortunately for Alexei, he was also the Black Widow’s first husband.”

“So this broad will kill hundreds like nothing, just to achieve her goals?” Stark pulled a silver cigarette case from his jacket’s interior pocket, and made a show of lighting up. “I better sweep the R&D Department, just in case.”

“If she’s anywhere in the Capitol on assignment,” Fury added as Sitwell shut down the projector. “Short of the White House, I’d wager her eyes will be on you, Howard.”

Stark frowned as Sitwell slapped him on the back. “My condolences, but what a way to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Back to Steve in the next chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, there is more to come! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it.


End file.
